Mentalist Episode Tag: Blood and Sand, 4x5
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Life's a beach, so the beach bum philosphers say. Lisbon and Jane discuss that very thing.  Spoilers for 4x5. Introspective friendship fic with a touch of humor.  No copyright infringement intended.


A/N: I've watched this episode a couple of times now, and I still find it to be a little disjointed and moody, and the case itself was sort of uncaptivating. The very last scene, with Jane and the flower, however, was a HUGE moment for him. Those of us who really know this character must have all shared a gasp of surprise that he did something so…irrational. It evokes the idea that he believes in something again. Or maybe, as he said, it certainly "couldn't hurt." Still, taking that St. Christopher's medal last year and now this flower ritual, gives me new hope for Jane. That idea inspired this tag. I hope you like it.

**Episode Tag: Blood and Sand, 4x5**

Lisbon wasn't surprised to find him on the beach. Jane had a strange affinity for the ocean, and whenever a case brought them there, she was always amused at the way he became even more animated, more childlike. He would invariably play hooky from work or find excuses to be near the water, and one might even find him chasing seagulls or making sandcastles. He always seemed more carefree near the ocean, and it brought out his most endearing qualities. But from her vantage point on the headland above, where he could see him standing, oblivious for the moment of her watching him, he just looked…lonely.

Lisbon vacillated between calling to him or going to him, and, despite the rocky shore that threatened to turn her ankles, she began her determined descent. When a rock clattered down the gentle incline, Jane tensed, but didn't turn around.

"Hello, Lisbon," he called over the loudness of the waves. "Have I missed the boat?" Of course, he'd intended that to have two meanings.

"On occasion," she said, playing along. She stood by him and joined him in his contemplation of the immensity and power of the mighty Pacific.

He grinned a little, despite his apparent melancholy.

Lisbon didn't like the beach, didn't like the sand that got everywhere, the wind and moisture that made her hair unmanageable, the gnats and the fishy smell of rotting crabs and creepy kelp that looked like the limbs of a dead sea monster. Jane was right; she _was_ a city girl—_through and through,_ she added proudly to herself. But she was curious as to why Jane liked it so much.

"What is it about the ocean that seems to enthrall you so much that you risk being stranded on this godforsaken island?"

She half expected a flippant reply, but he surprised her suddenly with the truth.

"I think it's the predictability that draws me. The waves come in, the waves go out. The tide rises, the tide falls. It's very soothing to me, hypnotic even. No matter what the world throws you, Lisbon, the ocean is a constant that we can always rely on."

"Hypnotizing the hypnotist," she mused. "But what about tsunamis and shark attacks?" She pointed out wryly. She couldn't resist bringing in her own personal biases.

He shrugged. "Even those are predictable in their way, or at least, avoidable. If an earthquake comes, seek higher ground. If you're afraid of sharks, stay on dry land, especially if there's blood in the water."

She looked at him sideways. "Why do I feel like you're teaching a lesson on philosphical symbolism?"

He chuckled. "I'm not, really. Something about the ocean puts me in that frame of mind, though, makes me contemplate my insignificant place in the world."

"Even a colossal ego can feel small next to the vastness of the ocean…"

"Something like that." He acknowledged her playful jab with an amused nod.

Lisbon felt like they'd suddenly switched roles. Ordinarily, she was the one who believed in something bigger than herself. What was up with this philosophical introspection all of a sudden?

They stood in the sand, watching the waves do their dependable dance with their partner, the beach. Jane was certainly in an odd humor, and part of her feared it might lead him to that dark place he would sometimes go to where she couldn't reach him.

But the other part of Lisbon had to admit there was something very different about this current mood of his. He seemed more serious and contemplative than usual at the beach. It was as if he still felt his lack of control over the world, but it no longer had the power to depress him. He really did seem comforted somehow by the endless cycle of the waves . In fact, he almost appeared…at peace.

"Is everything all right, Jane?" she dared to ask, afraid she might have misinterpreted his mood entirely.

"Yes, Lisbon. I'm perfectly fine." He missed for once the fleeting hint of relief that crossed her face. Still staring out at the water, Jane took a deep breath of the salty air, then slipped his hands into his jacket pockets, rocking back on his heels in his customary stance of casual expectancy.

"It's beautiful here, don't you think?"

"I guess." She wrinkled her nose and stepped away from a slimy piece of kelp that had washed ashore near her feet. He grinned at her expression.

"You can take the girl out of the city…"

"Yeah, yeah," she interrupted in irritation. "But you know what is also predictable, besides the sea, that is?" she asked with a hint of mischief.

"Hm?"

"The departure time of the last ferry boat to the mainland."

When Jane hadn't returned to the dock, Lisbon had told the rest of the team to take their suspects back with them on the police boat. She would find Jane and they would return on the ferry. Despite her threats, they all knew she couldn't just leave him there alone.

"Is that a not-so-subtle hint that you'd like to get the hell off this island?"

"Yes, Jane, that's exactly what it is."

"Well, why didn't you just come out and say so, Lisbon? Sheesh, you really think I can read minds, don't you?"

He turned abruptly away from the water, his demeanor changing as if turning off a switch. He took her arm to help her climb over the rocks in her impractical boots. When they reached the promontory again, Lisbon glanced back at the ocean.

"It is sort of soothing, isn't it?" she ventured. "It makes you feel—I don't know—_hopeful._ Is that the right word?"

He stopped and looked at her as if he'd just experienced an epiphany. "Yeah," he said, peering into her wistful face. "That _is _a good word for it, Lisbon. Hopeful," he repeated thoughtfully. "Hmm."

Lisbon decided not to pry into whatever self-awareness he'd lurched into, but she felt her heart expand with relief and happiness that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to let go of the pain of his past, if only a little bit. _Baby steps_, she thought to herself. If the ocean could do that for a man like Patrick Jane, she suddenly had a new appreciation for it.

"You know what I'm most hopeful for?" she asked him, picking up the pace as they continued down the road leading back to town.

"That the ferry hasn't left us?"

"See, Jane," she said dryly. "You _are_ a mind reader."

A/N: You notice I didn't mention the flower here—I didn't want Lisbon to have seen him do that. I don't know why; it just seemed too private a moment for Jane in that wonderful ending scene on the show. I'm hopeful next week's episode will be in a lighter vein, and that we get a chance to know more about Lisbon's own past. Until then…thanks for reading my tag!


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